The Nature of Horcruxes
by Claggart
Summary: HBP Spoilers! Snape's position in the war now seems clear, but Dumbledore makes an appearance in an unexpected way to illuminate the situation. Harry must apologize to Snape, again, and confront him about an obliviated memory.
1. Chapter 1

WARNING! THIS FIC CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR H.B.P.!

_**The Nature of Horcruxes**_

**Chapter 1**

Harry had not expected it; he hadn't even thought of it as a possibility, in fact. After the disappointment he'd suffered after Sirius's death concerning the subject, he entertained no hope that Dumbledore might return to the world of the living in any form other than that of a portrait. It was understandable, then, to say he was completely shocked when the morning after Dumbledore's funeral, the silvery form of the deceased Headmaster showed up in the bathroom while Harry was brushing his teeth.

"It was a lovely service, wasn't it?" Harry's mouth fell open, and frothy toothpaste dribbled unattractively down his chin. He stumbled back from the sink, his toothbrush clattering to the floor as he stared in wide-eyed shock at the ghost of Albus Dumbledore.

"Shumbleore!" He had meant, of course, to say the Headmaster's name. Instead, his exclamation was distorted by a mouth full of toothpaste that sprayed everywhere.

Dumbledore smiled pleasantly at him, his eyes still twinkling merrily.

"I know I haven't given you any advanced warning, but do you think you could fit another one of our lessons into your schedule this morning? I am not yet done with your instruction, you see. There is much more still for you to know."

Harry continued to gape, unable to recover from his shock. His smile even merrier, Dumbledore raised a ghostly wand and flicked it. The toothpaste dissolved and a gentle, invisible force nudged Harry's mouth closed.

"You…you can do magic!" Harry said dumbly. Dumbledore crossed his legs, sitting perched on the toilet seat as if it were the most natural place in the world to be sitting.

"Weak magic only – nothing impressive any more, I'm afraid. It was an unexpected surprise for me as well. I suppose it has something to do with where I bound it."

"_It?_" Harry asked, half-fearful to hear the rest of the explanation.

"Ah, you see Harry, _it_…" he paused, then sighed, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "_It_ is a long story, better retold somewhere more appropriate than the loo, I think." Dumbfounded, but slowly filling with a immense relief and joy to see the old man again, Harry numbly left the bathroom, staring at Dumbledore over his shoulder the entire time. "You need not fear, Harry. I won't disappear. I am tied to the mortal plane, as I hoped I would be."

Growing more confused, and more elated, with each passing second, Harry sat on the edge of his bed.

"Err…should I ward the door?" He asked, pulling his wand out.

"Yes, please. Though I'm capable of magic, it is trying on my essence."

Harry performed the requested silencing and locking spells, then settled back a bit with a slow grin blossoming on his face.

"I thought you were gone for good. I thought…I thought I'd never see you again, like with Sirius…"

Dumbledore smiled understandingly, his head nodding gently.

"Yes, _typically_ that's how death goes. I don't know if you've heard, but I'm known by a few to be…unconventional."

The two shared bright smiles. After a second, Harry's fell slightly.

"I never expected you to become a ghost, sir. You were always saying death was the next big adventure."

"It is, Harry, but I'm not a ghost, and I'm not quite dead yet."

"Err...I didn't know there was another option," Harry admitted confusedly. Dumbledore chuckled, folding his hands serenely over his long beard.

"Are you sure you cannot think of one? Generally thought of as an unpleasant sort of existence, but you've had much experience with it."

Harry's brow scrunched in thought. If Dumbledore wasn't alive, and he wasn't dead…then what could he be?

"Something in-between life and death? Something…like Voldemort before he gained his body back!" Harry said excitedly after puzzling it out in his head. His expression, however, quickly turned to one of worry. "Sir, how are you doing this? You didn't…surely not a Horcrux!"

"In principle, yes, but with significant differences. I'm afraid I can no longer show you memories. For this lesson, I will simply have to describe past events to the best of my ability." He looked away from Harry for a moment, as if he were delving into a pensieve in his mind, looking for the right silvery thread. "It all began with my suspicions about the Horcruxes and Voldemort many years ago…"

Dumbledore tapped his nose in a thoughtful way, and then tilted his head slowly to the side.

"Balance, Harry, is an important force in our world. Take, for example, yourself and Riddle. For every negative force in the world, there is a positive one. My theory about the way Horcruxes worked was based on this very simple idea. If there was a way to make a Horcrux by evil means, then one should be able to make one by positive actions as well."

"You mean by not killing someone?" Harry clarified. Dumbledore smiled.

"Generally that could be interpreted as something positive." Harry blushed, then resolved not to interrupt again. Dumbledore cleared his throat, then continued.

"Just as Voldemort had experimented with killing to fuel the spell, I experimented with saving lives. Luckily, my work with the Order allowed me ample opportunities should I wish to try creating a Horcrux in such a fashion. I saved many people, but somehow I knew I had not rescued the right life – my work so far was simply not powerful enough. Just as Voldemort sought to kill you to make the Horcrux more effective, I searched for the salvation that was powerful enough to fuel my own Horcrux. It came nearly seventeen years ago, in the form of one Severus Snape."

Forgetting his resolution, Harry instantly growled, "He's a filthy traitor!" There was no trace of a smile when Dumbledore replied.

"He is one of the few people I trust implicitly – with my life, as it so happens. You see, Harry, what is tying me to this world, what is allowing me to aid you as I am, is the fact that the part of my soul I left on earth is bound in a wand. Severus's wand, to be specific."

Harry was horrified.

"Your soul is in Snape's wand? Are you crazy!"

"I don't believe so, but it does run in the family, you know. Dear, dear Abberforth…"

"But…but…Snape?" Harry trailed off uncertainly, obviously hoping Dumbledore would explain why someone so apparently worthy of trust had just murdered the one doing the trusting. He was eager for the Headmaster to talk his way out of _that_ one.

"Harry, the very fact that I am here speaking with you is proof of Severus's loyalty. He knew a bit of my soul might be in his wand. If he were serving Voldemort, he would have promptly destroyed it properly the second I died in order to eliminate me completely. Instead, he has kept the wand safe and intact, so I have returned to the mortal plane with the added bonus of being able to do simple spells – the result of my essence being channeled trough a wand, I'd wager."

"If you're in the wand…then how are you here?" Harry was feeling more and more confused by the second. He desperately hoped that he wasn't just imagining it all.

"I am not a genie, Harry. Voldemort floated about inside Quirrel's turban, if you recall, though his soul was bound to one of the founder's items. His essence was much weaker than mine, possibly because he ripped his soul so many times. Since I only made one Horcrux, my form is considerably more solid, which is why you first mistook me for a ghost."

"So let me get this straight. When you realized how Voldemort was making Horcruxes, you decided to make one yourself, only by saving a life instead of destroying it. You saved Snape – how exactly was his life more valuable than that of the others you saved?"

"Ah, a good question. What _was_ so special about Severus? I wondered the exact same thing for many years – no doubt Voldemort wondered the same thing about you. Why would saving Severus make the Horcrux more powerful? It wasn't until I gained a better understanding of your prophecy that I realized why Severus's life was so compatible with the Horcrux spell. Severus, like you, has a special purpose to his life…a prophesy of his own. _You_ are destined to defeat the most evil wizard of all time. Severus, too, has an important role to play in the grand scheme of things. By saving his life, I changed the future. Why that makes the Horcrux more powerful, I have no idea. In fact, I didn't even know if the spell would work or not. I could not test it until my body was killed. There is much about Horcruxes that is not known."

"What is Snape supposed to do for the world?" Harry asked.

"I haven't the foggiest idea. I've never heard his prophecy, as it isn't located in the Department of Mysteries, and even if it were I would not be able to activate it as it doesn't involve me. Perhaps the prophecy hasn't even been told yet."

"This is quite a bit to take in," Harry commented tiredly. His head hurt from trying to understand it all.

"Yes, well, there is more."

Harry laughed helplessly.

"Of course there is. There's always more. You'd be loosing your touch if there wasn't _more_." Dumbledore smiled at him, a brow lifted in amusement at his dramatics.

"Severus knew what I was attempting. He knew that I had used saving his life to fuel my Horcrux spell. He knew I had chosen his wand as my Horcrux. However, Severus did not agree with any of it. I believe Hagrid told you about an argument between the two of us that he overheard, did he not?" Harry nodded guiltily. "Severus was being very vocal about his dislike of my scheme. You see, Harry, I knew the potion that protected the locket would poison me. To Voldemort, who would use a disposable Death Eater if he wished to retrieve the locket, that was a small obstacle. For me, it was a different matter. I would not sacrifice anyone's life for that cause except my own. Severus believed he could find an antidote. In fact, he worked on one tirelessly this past year. I wished to drink the potion, retrieve the locket, and rely on my Horcrux to bring my essence back in a form that could not be as easily destroyed as flesh and bone. Severus didn't think the Horcrux would work if fueled by anything other than the taking of a life, and so believed that finding the antidote to the poison was the only way of keeping me around and acquiring the locket."

"So when you begged him right before you died, you weren't begging him to spare you…"

"I was begging him to kill me. I had faith in my spell even if he did not. Thankfully, he followed my wishes and everything worked out splendidly."

Harry spluttered at that.

"_Splendidly_? I would hardly call this splendid! The locket that caused all this mess in the first place isn't even genuine! Hogwarts is closing down, Snape and Malfoy have disappeared, and you're stuck inside Snape's wand. How is any of that splendid?"

"What do you mean, the locket isn't genuine?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly very serious. Harry pulled it out of his pocket, along with the note from the mysterious R.A.B. who had left it. Dumbledore peered through ghostly spectacles at the note Harry held up for him to read.

_To the Dark Lord_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this_

_but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret._

_I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,_

_You will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B._

"Most intriguing!" Dumbledore said after finishing. "This person, whoever he was, knew that the potion was a poison. He drank it knowing he would die, but that he would have enough time to destroy the Horcrux. A noble deed – a very noble deed! Unfortunately, he obviously didn't know that more than one Horcrux existed. I do wonder how he found out about the potion. I only knew because Severus learned of it from Voldemort himself."

"You think this R.A.B. bloke might be an ex-Death Eater like Snape?" If Dumbledore noticed Harry had changed his opinion on Severus, he didn't comment on it.

"It's very possible. This was unexpected. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing if R.A.B. was successful in destroying the Horcrux or not."

"Professor Dumbledore, I've been thinking about the initials. The only person that comes to mind is…Regulus Black. Sirius's younger brother was a Death Eater, right? And Sirius told me that Voldemort killed him, but he didn't seem to know the details of the murder. Sirius said Regulus was panicked about what Voldemort wanted him to do and tried to leave the Death Eaters, and that's what got him killed. If he wanted to back out, maybe he disliked Voldemort enough to get in a parting shot."

Dumbledore was so pleased by Harry's deduction, his essence was practically glowing.

"You thought of that all on your own, Harry? I'm very impressed you remembered all that."

Blushing, Harry modestly replied, "I've had awhile to think about it. Kept my mind off…other things." Dumbledore nodded in understanding, then stood up and began to pace.

"I had not finished telling you why this situation is so optimal. You see, it had always worried me that Severus may have been suspected as a spy. Worried for his safety, I had to order him to do more and more convincing tasks to ease Voldemort's mind. His position in the Death Eater ranks was above value. Everything the Order did was because of _his_ information. Without Severus, there wouldn't have been an Order of the Pheonix. I downplayed his vital role to the others, so that they would not realize the fragility of our group. If we lost Severus, we lost everything. I had no other sources."

Harry mulled that over for a few moments, finally starting to understand what had been going on in Dumbledore's head the past few years. Every choice, no matter how strange or seemingly mistaken, was well thought out – flawlessly so, even.

"Do you think that was Snape's prophecy? To help the Order exist?"

"I've considered it. He certainly played a crucial role. It could be anything, even a single word or action – the smallest stone can cause giant ripples, you know."

"I…I'm sorry I doubted you, Professor." Dumbledore looked shocked at Harry's heartfelt admission.

"Sorry, my dear boy? Whatever for? Though I may seem irritated by it at times, I would be more worried if you did _not _doubt me."

"I don't understand," Harry replied honestly.

"Let's look at Bellatrix Lestrange. That is an example of a woman who never doubts her superior. She follows Voldemort blindly, without thinking, because that is the _easy _way. It feels nice to be under _Imperious_, doesn't it, Harry? Why is that? Because you don't have to think. You don't have to make decisions or face consequences. Making a person behave that way is unforgivable, Harry – ranked equally with murder and torture. Bellatrix lives as if she were under _Imperious_. Never stop questioning, Harry. I have watched as your mind sharpened at Hogwarts. You are learning to play the game with the best of them. I am not a God. I make mistakes. If no one questions me, who will catch them? This is yet another reason I keep Severus around. He is amazingly talented at catching my mistakes. Sometimes I think he just enjoys ruining my fun."

Harry smiled, feeling much better about everything and so very relieved that things had taken a turn for the better when it had, just moments before, seemed so grim.

"But…Snape questioned you about the Horcrux. He thought you were making a mistake then. Why didn't you listen to him?"

"Because Severus makes mistakes as well. I had to make a decision. I had to be prepared to face the consequences. I was right, and everything is going according to plan."

"It was your plan for Draco and Snape to run off into the sunset together?" Harry was surprised at his own words. He hadn't sounded accusing or questioning, but _jealous_. It was such a bizarre way to react, he instantly went into denial. Dumbledore, though he raised a questioning eyebrow, was polite enough not to pry.

"Yes, I had hoped he would save Draco. As you saw, he is not his father, and is a far cry from Bellatrix Lestrange. He, like Severus, has the potential to walk a better path. Severus, having been in the same situation as Draco, will be the only one Draco would possibly listen to, if there is any hope for him."

"But why did Snape run, if he was innocent?" Harry pressed.

"If I'd just murdered someone as influential as myself, I would have made a run for it, too. Who would have vouched for his innocence? You? You knew only a fraction of the story. The others knew even less. I have kept many secrets in this war. Sometimes it pays off. Sometimes it doesn't. The question of Severus's true allegiance has been an example of when it doesn't. Ideally, everyone would have thought without a doubt that he was on Voldemort's side with the lone exception of me. I could not be so indifferent about his fate, though. I could not let everyone know how, or why, I had such confidence in him, but I wanted selected individuals to know that I _did_ trust him. I had hoped that would have been enough to give him a chance to at least explain himself should I die and no longer be able to vouch for him. Apparently, that wouldn't have been the case."

"Do you know where Snape has gone?" Harry asked, partly to change the subject. He didn't like thinking about how grossly he had misjudged Snape's character, and how unfairly he had treated him as a result.

"I have my suspicions. He has a home that only the Death Eaters and myself know of, and then his parent's estate which is listed as his residence as far as the ministry is concerned. No doubt they will seize the house considering recent events. He would not go there, but he might be at his other residence. Killing me has not only freed me from my aging body, but has also proved his loyalty without a doubt to Voldemort. His position is nearly ironclad now. You see, Harry, everything has worked out just fine."

Dumbledore smiled in what he probably thought was a comforting way, but Harry's thoughts were obsessed with the thought of Draco and Snape living in hiding together, and he didn't have the foggiest idea why it made his stomach clench so angrily.

"I suppose everything _has_ worked out alright. At the very least, Mrs. Weasley and Fleur are getting along better now," Harry slowly admitted.

Dumbledore smiled mischievously.

"Would you believe me if I said I planned that as well?"

Harry shook his head and smiled. "No – not even you're _that_ good. Unless, of course, you've been spending time with Professor Trelawney and she's got you predicting the future by scrying into your lemon drop jar."

Dumbledore's expression became wistful.

"Oh, my kingdom for a lemon drop! How I will miss eating sweets. I'm afraid this might very well be my greatest sacrifice yet for the cause of good."

Harry agreed it was quite the sacrifice, but certainly not because of lemon drops. Not for the first time, Harry found himself overwhelmed by how much he respected the old wizard.

There was no question about it. He was definitely Dumbledore's man through and through.

**A/N:** I finished reading Half Blood Prince this morning and thought I'd never write another Harry/Sev fic again. How on earth could I possibly reconcile the snarky, honorable Severus of the past with this new, evil Severus that would kill Albus Dumbledore? And what was with Severus vowing to protect _Draco_? Hello! He's supposed to protect _Harry_! Duh. (I know you Sev/Draco shippers are having a field day with that one.) But then I just kept thinking that Dumbledore trusted Severus. That lead to the start of this fic, which will act as a sequel to book six. I thought up that whole bit about Regulus Black on my own, and I'm really proud of that bit of sleuthing. Besides, Harry seemed to do Hermione's job in the new book, figuring everything out on his own, so I thought it suited this new aspect of his character to let him connect the initials with Sirius's dead brother. Lastly, a completely unrelated comment:

Remus be with Tonks? evil grin Only if she'll turn into Sirius for him…


	2. Chapter 2

**The Nature of Horcruxes**

_**Chapter 2**_

Dumbledore had told him to finished getting dressed, because they had a busy day ahead of them. Harry emerged from the bathroom, dressed to travel, quite eager to begin to right things. Dumbledore stood, a proud look on his face.

"You have grown and learned so much, Harry. I was very proud of you in the cave. Your idea to give your friends the luck potion, when you could have taken it for yourself, was very selfless of you."

Harry blushed, modestly denying he'd done anything worth mentioning.

"Err…sir? Are you going to let people see you?"

"A few people, yes, but they will be under the misconception that I am a ghost. The fewer people who know my essence is tied to something in this realm, the better."

"Okay, then, where to first?"

"My…I mean, Minerva's office. Request Hermione and Ronald accompany you. If you can't see me, I have merely spread out my essence and am floating above you."

The two of them exited the dorms and emerged into the common room. Dumbledore hovered above them, a barely noticeable cloud of gaseous essence. Only Harry, who knew he was there, even noticed him.

Ron and Hermione were sitting by the fireplace, quietly talking to each other. They were holding hands, and Harry realized with a smile that Dumbledore's death had brought another unexpected benefit. The two of them had finally realized that anyone could die at any time, and now were happily an official couple. Ginny wasn't there, and Harry felt bad that he was glad of it. True, they'd gotten along really well, and he certainly cared for her, but the two of them just weren't meant to be. He didn't know why, but he knew it was something more than his worry for her safety. Unbidden, the thought of Snape flashed through his head.

"Hey guys, can you come with me for just a second? We have to go talk to Professor McGonagall."

"Oh, sure, Harry. Hey, isn't that your traveling cloak? They decided not to shut the school down until the end of this week, you're not leaving now are you?" Hermione questioned.

"I'll explain once we're in the Headmistress' office." Harry flashed them a smile, which caused them to shoot worried looks at each other. They hadn't expected Harry to be so cheerful just a day after the funeral of his mentor.

The three of them made their way to the statue of the gargoyle. The entire way, Ron and Hermione had subtly been trying to question him, but he had merely smiled in lieu of reply. He gave the password, then gestured his friends to go on up. Behind their backs, he smirked at Dumbledore floating above them.

Minerva looked as tired as she felt. The piles of paperwork on her desk were enormous, and the office looked in disarray after the Minister's visit from the night before. She waved at the chairs with her wand almost absently, not looking up from the paperwork in front of her when she said, "Sit, please."

They sat, Hermione and Ron shooting questioning glances at Harry. Eventually, McGonagall looked up and set her quill down. Her eyes were red, most likely from crying.

"How can I help the three of you?" she asked, her hands laced in front of her.

"Someone's here to see you, Professor." As Harry said this, Dumbledore materialized behind the startled Ron and Hermione. Professor McGonagall was instantly standing, rushing around the desk, stopping in front of the two students and looking upon Dumbledore with hope lighting her face.

"Albus…?" Hesitantly, she held out her hand, which Dumbledore allowed, though her fingers merely passed through him. Harry knew he could have been more solid if he'd wanted to, but he was keeping with the guise of being a ghost.

"Yes, Minerva, I'm back. It would appear I have unfinished business. Harry still needs my guidance, so here I am."

"I…I don't know what to say!" Minerva brought her shaking fingers to press against her lips. Ron and Hermione had stood, turning around to get a better look at the Headmaster. Harry remained seated, watching their interaction. Fawks flew from his perch and alighted gently on Harry's shoulder.

"Hey, Fawks. Your song for Dumbledore was really beautiful."

The phoenix trilled softly, nuzzling his bright head against Harry's hand. Harry tuned out for a little while, just stroking the soft plumage and letting his thoughts wander. He was snapped from his reverie when he heard Snape's name mentioned.

"The aurors are hunting him down, Albus. I wished I could have gone with them," Minerva's voice was hard as steel. Albus smiled gently, raising a ghostly hand to pat her shoulder.

"Now, now, Minerva. You don't know everything there is to know yet. I still trust Severus. My faith in him has not wavered."

As if she'd forgotten the students were there, she walked away from Dumbledore, obviously agitated.

"Then _tell_ me, Albus. The Minister is insisting I shut down the school, your death has seemingly drained the Order of all hope, and the Death Eaters are running amok. I need to know _what _exactly is going on!" She was visibly angry, as she had slammed her hand down on a pile of paperwork for emphasis. Dumbledore's essence looked sad, then thoughtful, and finally settled on resigned. Quietly, he requested the three of them leave the office.

Once they could no longer hear the conversation inside, Ron and Hermione immediately jumped on Harry for information.

"When did he appear, Harry? Oh, this is wonderful!" Hermione gushed, her relief palpable. Ron patted him on the back.

"See, I knew Dumbledore wouldn't let us down! Why does he still trust _Snape_, though?"

"You'll find out soon enough," was Harry's cryptic reply. "I think, though, that Dumbledore wants the two of us to leave soon. We'll be going after the Horcruxes."

"And to see Snape, too?" Hermione deduced shrewdly. Harry didn't answer. After a few minuets, he felt a little guilty by keeping them in the dark.

"It's a possibility. He's not the traitor that we thought he was. Dumbledore was right about him. Unfortunately, this means I probably owe him an apology. Again."

"I didn't want to believe…I mean, why would Dumbledore have such faith in him? Everyone just wanted someone to blame and to be angry at. I owe him an apology as well. I may not have been as vocal about my dislike, but I probably could have at least tried to defend him, for Dumbledore's sake if not anything else." Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip in a thoughtful sort of way, obviously berating herself for letting everyone else's opinions sway her cool logic.

"I guess we'll just have to take your word on it, mate. You sure we can't come with you after the Horcruxes?" Ron asked half-hopeful.

"No, Mr. Weasley, this is a journey for Harry and myself. I'm sure, though, that you will be put to good use here. The school is to remain open in the capacity as a refuge for Voldemort's victims and headquarters for the Order. I would like the two of you to remain here and help in any way you can. Look up spells for the Order, brew potions for the infirmary, and help people find their way around. Practice your dueling skills with each other. They will be imperative in the coming months, I've no doubt." Dumbledore smiled at them both before nodding at Harry. "I will give you a few moments to say goodbye to your friends, Harry."

Dumbledore disappeared, and Harry waited a few seconds before opening his mouth to speak.

Then he closed it, because he didn't know what to say. The three of them stared at each other for a few moments before Hermione broke the silence by launching herself into Harry's arms. She hugged him fiercely, pulling away only to draw Ron into the embrace.

"We love you so much, Harry. Stay safe, and good luck!"

"Yeah, mate, show Voldemort who's boss."

The three way hug ended, and Harry nodded resolutely.

"Take care of Hogwarts for me, you guys. This is my home, so I don't want to come back and find it blown up or anything. Don't risk yourselves unnecessarily, and if there's an attack, give the Death Eaters hell for me."

The three smiled at each other, then Harry nodded resolutely and strode down the hall.

Ron took his girlfriend's hand, then smiled gently when she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head just under his chin. They watched Harry until he disappeared around a corner, and even then, they stood in the deserted hallway a long time by themselves, just holding on and giving each other strength.

Dumbledore materialized beside Harry when he was outside of Hogwarts.

"We'll walk to the end of the wards, then you can apparate us to Diagon Alley. You will need a few items for our journey."

They had almost made it to the apparation point when a loud crack startled them both. Dobby appeared, wearing a ridiculous assembly of mismatched clothing items.

"What are you doing here, Dobby?" Harry asked.

"Dobby heard the Headmaster and Harry Potter talking in Harry Potter's dorm room, sirs! Dobby wishes to come with you. Dobby can use his magic to help you, sirs!"

Harry was about to tell him to return to the castle, but then the thought occurred to him that having a house elf's magic at their disposal might not be such a bad thing. Dumbledore merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"It is your decision, Harry. I do not mind if he comes."

Harry looked into Dobby's hopeful, tennis-ball sized eyes and smiled.

"That would be great, Dobby. Thanks for offering."

The house elf jumped into the air happily, causing his two, overly large hats to fly into the air. Harry caught one, then handed it back to him. "We'll have to get you some clothing that's more appropriate for traveling, though. We're going to Diagon Alley now. Can you transport yourself there?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, Dobby will be there, sirs!" With another popping noise, Dobby was gone and Dumbledore's very solid hand was resting on Harry's shoulder.

"Mind you don't splinch us, Harry." Harry grimaced, then concentrated. The disturbing feeling of being sucked through a tube passed and he found himself standing in the near-deserted main street of Diagon Alley.

"Excellent. Gringotts first, I believe. Some of your purchases will be a bit costly."

Dumbledore disappeared, but Dobby walked along beside him. Eventually, they came to the large, white bank, and Harry quickly stepped inside. There he was greeted by a goblin, who escorted him to his vault where Harry removed a large bag of galleons. From Gringotts, Dumbledore directed them into a small, dusty little shop Harry had never noticed before.

Inside were all kinds of thick cloaks, weapons, and strange silver things, all very similar to the items Dumbledore had in his office. The shop must have been where he purchased them. Before the shopkeeper appeared from the back, where he could be heard rummaging around, Dumbledore told Harry he would be purchasing a cloak.

The shopkeeper emerged from the back, his appearance shocking. His face, much like Bill Weasley's, was terribly misshapen. He was hunched over in a strange way, as if he had two, bony spines instead of one. His beard was scraggly and forked, and swept at the floor. His eyes were a piercing red.

"Who are you?" He asked gruffly, hobbling around the counter to invade Harry's space with startling swiftness. His red eyes narrowed and his long, crooked nose twitched from side to side like that of a rabbit.

"I…uh…"

"This is Harry Potter, Demetrius. The beard is a nice touch, by the way."

If the odd looking old man was surprised to see Albus materialize, he didn't show it.

"Hello, Albus. So the Horcrux worked, did it? Knew it would – ain't nobody better than me at tweakin' spells!" Much to Harry's amazement, the hobbled old man morphed in front of his eyes to take on the appearance of a younger gentleman, his nose a normal size and his beard a dark, curly brown with a little gray mixed in. It was thick on his chin, and a large mustache covered his upper lip. He now looked to be just a little older than Mr. Weasley.

"A Metamorphagus?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Not quite, Harry. Demetrius is an Ancient One. He can take on any form, even something inanimate, as long as he has touched it before. It's very advanced Old Magic."

"I've never heard of an Ancient One, or of Old Magic."

"Most people haven't. It's not common," Demetrius replied, a bit of self-pride evident in his voice.

"You mean, I could learn to do that, too?" Harry asked, very impressed. That would certainly be a handy skill to learn.

"Probably. If you had fifty or so years to spare, and an Ancient One that was about to die and was willing to pass you the knowledge," Demetrius answered.

"You see, Harry, the Ancient Ones practice Old Magic. Demetrius can trace his knowledge back to the beginning of the first civilization, and to the very first wizard."

Harry's blank expression told them more of an explanation would be necessary.

"There's a spell, boy," Demetrius began. Internally, Harry winced. He hated being called _boy_. "This spell is from the oldest magic in existence – the first magic. It was a spell to transfer experience from one wizard to another. In the beginning, there were no wizarding schools, and very few wizards and witches. Knowledge had to be shared, so a spell was crafted in the old language. Just before a wizard would die, he'd cast the spell and pass his experience, knowledge, and all his memories, into the mind of another wizard. Back then, wizards and witches were immensely more powerful. They had enough magic to handle the transfer, as it was a tricky business, very dangerous. So several generations passed, and each generation contained all the knowledge of the generation that went before, thus they had lived since the beginning of time. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded. Dumbledore resumed the explanation.

"This particular type of Old Magic is the foundation for what you know as Occlumency, Legelimency, and pensieves. Horcruxes are also derived from this first transfer spell. Any magic that involves putting bits of yourself into something else can trace its roots to this transfer spell. This spell, however, is much more raw and undiluted. Imagine, in addition to your own memories, having all of mine in your head? Now imagine having three existences stored up there. Now ten, now fifty, now thousands – this is an Ancient One."

"That's…hard to imagine," Harry said weakly, staring at Demetrius in a new light. "How do you…I mean to say…"

"How do I keep from going insane? Most wizards who have tried the spell do – and that is only with one life added to their own. I am simply different. My magic works differently. Despite the fact that magic became diluted as time progressed, occasionally a witch or wizard will be born that was capable of practicing magic of the old variety."

"You mean, they were powerful like the Hogwarts founders?"

"Something like that. The founders could have probably handled the transfer without going insane. It was a great thing indeed that four of them were born in the same lifetime, and happened to meet, and happened to work towards the same goal. Very rare, indeed. Now, I believe there are only three wizards in existence that can tap Old Magic. One is myself, and one is my brother. The other…"

The two men looked pointedly at Harry. After a moment, he spoke hesitantly.

"And who is the other?"

Dumbledore started twinkling.

"We believe it is you, Harry."

He was stunned for a second, then rushed to assure them they had made a mistake.

"I'm not anything special! I'm just average. Hermione's loads better than me at magic, are you sure it isn't her?"

"She may be better than you at modern magic, but that is not the magic we're discussing. We're talking about Old Magic. It's quite different from what is used currently."

Harry gaped at them for a second, then looked accusingly at Dumbledore.

"I thought we were just coming in here to buy a cloak! You might have prepared me a bit for…_all this_. Is this because Voldemort marked me as a baby?" Harry asked.

"Actually, Harry, Voldemort has nothing to do with this. You're great-great-grandfather on James's side could use the Old Magic. He didn't discover it until he was nearly a hundred years old, and there were no Ancient Ones near death that could transfer their knowledge to him, so nothing came of it. You have the genetic disposition for it. You are young enough to be trained properly, and Demetrius is old enough that by the time you are ready to work the spell with him, it will be his time to pass on."

"I…but…how?"

"Not very articulate, is he?" Demetrius commented snidely. In that moment, Harry was strongly reminded of Snape.

"How do you know for sure that I have this power?" Harry forced out, blushing hotly.

"That is what we are here to see. If you would, Demetrius?" Albus asked pleasantly, as if requesting tea. Demetrius disappeared into the back and emerged with an extremely old book in his hands. Idly, he placed it on the front counter and flipped it open. The page was covered in strange markings, but in the same way he could understand Parseltongue, the symbols just seemed to make sense in Harry's head.

"Here. Read this." Demetrius tapped a sentence, and hesitantly Harry squinted at it.

"Light of the sun, illuminate my way." No sooner had Harry said the words, which sounded like English to him but felt strange in his mouth, a flickering light sparked in his palm. Harry stared at the popping sparks in wonder. He had done magic without a wand.

"That, Harry, was the very first _Lumos_ spell. Amazing, isn't it?" Dumbledore's ghostly form asked, coming to smile down at his tiny ball of sparks. Demetrius smiled broadly at him, then told him to read the next line. The sparks died away.

"Now, Harry, let me show you how a proper Lumos spell is done with Old Magic," Demetrius said with a grin. He rolled up the sleeves of his robes, instructed Harry and Dumbledore to step back, then said the same sentence.

It was like a column of fire had shot up from the center of the store, formed into a miniature sun, and burned brightly as it hovered just over Demetrius's palm. Harry and Dobby had to shield their eyes. Demetrius carelessly tossed the ball from one hand to the other, as if it were an ordinary beach ball. There were no shadows left in the shop. Everything was blasted with light. Thankfully, Demetrius canceled the spell relatively quickly, before Harry's retinas burned off.

"Old Magic, you see, is extremely powerful. It is hard to control. I became an Ancient One when I was forty years old. I am now three-hundred and seventy-two, and it is just now getting easier for me."

Harry couldn't stop himself from saying it.

"If you're so powerful, why don't _you_ kill Voldemort?" Thankfully, Demetrius didn't seem offended in the slightest.

"Because," he replied in a simplistic tone of voice, "it is not my destiny to do so. You are the Chosen One."

"Oh. So you're going to give me all this knowledge, and then _I'm_ going to kill Voldemort?" he asked hopeful. This was just what he'd dreamed of – some special power that would give him an advantage.

"No," Demetrius replied instantly. "I'm going to give you this book, and you're going to start teaching yourself magic all over again. In fifty years or so, after you've defeated Voldemort and worked for me for a few decades, and when I sense it is my time to go, then we will make the transfer. Until then, you'll still be the same wizard you always were, only now with a new ability to explore."

"And just so you do not think I deceived you, Harry, you _will_ be buying a cloak here. Demetrius creates things imbued and protected with Old Magic. He doesn't sell anything really powerful to the general public, but those who know about his shop know that anything purchased from here has amazing abilities. Perhaps you remember my personal collection?"

Harry nodded, looking around the shop again, and suddenly feeling guilty all over again for destroying the expensive collector items.

"What you'll be buying is in the back. Come along." Harry followed Demetrius after a nod from Dumbledore, Dobby bringing up the rear. In the back there were very few items. "I've been working on these things for you for awhile now. Albus told me you might need them."

"Did you and Professor Dumbledore meet when he was fighting Grindelwald?"

"Not exactly. We met at the bowling alley. We both enjoy a good game, you know. We've been bowling buddies for years."

Strangely enough, that simple comment made it easy for him to accept his new ability to do Old Magic as just another strange thing about himself. He was going to be apprenticed to an Ancient One, who just happened to be Dumbledore's bowling partner. Harry smiled and shook his head. Just wait till Ron heard about this one.

"These," Demetrius said and waved at a set of battle robes on a stand, "will be your robes from now on. They'll never wear out, they'll grow as you do, and they'll deflect almost everything."

"Even the unforgiveables?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I said almost. The unforgiveables are the three spells in modern magic that are most closely related to Old Magic. Their power is undiluted – a mixture of new and old. They are in a category of their own. While the robes won't block them, they will greatly reduce their effect. The killing curse will still kill you, however, just not instantly. Crucio should only feel like a mild electric shock, and Imperious won't have as much power."

"That's awesome," Harry praised, gently touching the fabric with his fingers. It felt strange – not like anything he'd ever touched before. It made his skin tingle.

"You can feel the Old Magic on it, can't you? Other wizards and witches won't be able to. It will feel like ordinary cloth to them. Over here we have a wand holster, pretty ordinary, actually, but when your wand is in the holster, and the holster is on your arm, your wand can't be taken from you…unless of course they take the arm with it."

Harry exchanged a nervous glance with Dobby.

"Boots that will give you speed, gloves that will give you strength, and a staff that can work as a wand or a weapon in a tight spot. Nobody makes these anymore. No one, including Voldemort, will suspect that it can be used for such a purpose. When you get better with your Old Magic, you can channel it through the staff for even more power and control. You wand won't be compatible with Old Magic."

"Does the staff have a magical core?"

"Doesn't need one. The wood itself contains stabilizing power. Think of it like the trunk of a great tree. The magic in it extends downwards into the earth, like roots, and above it to amplify, like leaves and branches."

When Harry held it in his hands, it seemed to hum, like it was singing to him in a strange, but comforting language.

"You said earlier that you 'tweaked' the spell for the Horcrux." Harry wanted to know all he could about the Horcruxes. Demetrius nodded proudly.

"Another Ancient One before my time created the Horcrux spell that Voldemort used. It is based on Old Magic, which makes it unpredictable and dangerous. When Albus approached me with the idea, I took to the challenge. I altered the spell for him, and prepared the wand to hold the soul."

After his explanation, Demetrius directed him into a small room where he could change. He emerged, dressed in the perfectly fit battle robes, wand holstered to his arm, staff in hand. He felt invincible – like he could actually fulfill his destiny for once.

He was also pleased to note that Demetrius had outfitted Dobby as well. He now wore a miniaturized, dark blue cloak, with pointed little boots on his feet. He had a small, pointed hat that tied under his chin.

"You look great, Dobby!" Harry complimented. With a knowing twinkle in his eyes, Dumbledore beamed at him.

"As do you, Harry. You look like a proper hero now."

His new attire cost him the entire sack of galleons, but as he walked from the store (the prized book hidden away in his robes) he felt like the purchase was well worth it.

**A/N:** What can I say? I'm a sucker for giving Harry special powers. I don't know if any of this was believable or not, but I think the whole "you can defeat Voldemort with love" is utter tripe. That's how you get a Snape, not how you kill a Dark Lord! I had to include Dobby, because I thought he was so cute in the new book – arguing with Kreacher and all. I'm loving your reviews. It's great to hear what you all thought about the book. (Was it just me, or did anyone else think Ginny should have died in the end? Not cause I don't like her, just because that would have fit. Anyone? Anyone?) Alright, well, for those of you who have read my old stuff, I do plan on finishing it. I'm writing the seventh chapter of _Now Hiring_ as we speak.

**Specific Replies:**

**Ivorybrowneyes** – I was hoping I would surprise someone with Regulus Black. I certainly didn't figure it out until I was writing the first chapter and the realization (especially considering I'd made it – I'm usually so dense) completely blew me away.

**Lord Localfreak** – I love your name, and I loved your review. It made me laugh out loud. I, too, couldn't bear the thought of Snape being evil, so this story was born.

**SweetAngel99 **– Tonks and Remus? Ugh. I'll pass, too. I like Tonks, and I like Remus, but not with each other. I did like the Bill/Fleur pairing. Notice Harry wasn't all googly over Fleur like Ron was, why's that? Because he's gay, that's why. -grins-

**Lilith- **Yeah, and why, if he was begging to be saved, did he petrify Harry? Wouldn't he have wanted Harry to try and protect him if that had been the case? No, he wanted to be killed, and he wanted Draco to live to see another day.

**Wwwendy –** That's how I was after OotP. I couldn't write for ages after Sirius died. That one completely shocked me. I guess I've always expected Dumbledore to die, but Sirius broke my heart.

**Sir Chris** – I apologize, but slash is what I write. This will be slash. I realize my summary was cut off, so you didn't know the pairing before you started reading, but that's just how the cookie crumbles. I think Harry and Severus have way too many passionate feelings for one another, be it hatred or love, to ignore such a delicious dynamic. I hope you'll keep reading anyway, and maybe even enjoy it.

**Piper of Locksley **– I'm sorry it feels rushed. I am not so great a writer that I can fix myself, I just write how I'm writing at the moment. So, err, sorry. I did want to get this out fast, though. I can't bear the thought that this book will ruin the lovely SS/HP community out there! He's not evil! He's not, he's not, he's not! We all must have faith in Dumbledore, and give Sevvie the benefit of the doubt. After all, he has to be convincing to trick Voldemort, right? But we know better. If we all look deep in our hearts, I think we know that Sev is on the right side.

**Shaldana Blackwater –** I love that you picked up on that! That's exactly the scene I was imaging, too! Dumbledore: I'm fine, really. I think I'll just take a walk…In fact, I drew a comic of it and I'll probably post it on my website if I can get my scanner to work.


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Nature of Horcruxes**_

_Chapter 3_

They spent the rest of the day browsing Knockturn Alley for any Horcruxes, knowing they probably wouldn't find anything. They returned to Diagon Alley for dinner, and from Diagon Alley, Harry, Dumbledore, and Dobby made their merry way to Privet Drive. The destination didn't seem half so odious to Harry when he knew Albus Dumbledore would be accompanying him. Still, by then it was tradition for him to ask if there was any way around it. As the three walked down the dimly lit street, Harry protested half-heartedly.

"Are you sure we have to revive the wards?"

"Yes, Harry."

"But you're back now, and you aren't going anywhere, so why would I possibly need this place?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard in a thoughtful way, then paused under a street lamp. His ghostly form was tinged with gold, and Harry had never thought he looked more powerful or wise.

"Well, I could be wrong about Severus. He might turn out to be a traitor, and snap his wand. Thus, he would end my existence, and Voldemort could take over the world by tea time. Not to mention, your chance at getting your face on a Chocolate Frog Card would be shot. In the aftermath, while the crumbling Order struggles to overthrow him, mad with grief, I would hope you would make your way here where the blood protection would keep you safe. You would, of course, have to live the rest of your life as a muggle – The Boy who Started off Promising but Finished Rather Unspectacularly."

Harry stared at him blankly. Dumbledore smiled, then patted his head.

"Don't worry my boy. It is much more likely that you will destroy the Horcruxes, defeat Voldemort, and look dashing on your Chocolate Frog Card. However, we should be prepared for anything!"

Harry exchanged a worried look with Dobby, then followed the Headmaster shaking his head at the old man's antics.

It goes without saying that the Dursleys were not pleased to see a ghost, a small deformed creature, and a Harry Potter on their doorstep. The ghost was the cause of no small amount of alarm, the creature inspired a look of revulsion on Petunia's face that could have curdled milk, and the Potter caused Vernon to grunt in a surprised/angry/irritated sort of way. Dudley was in the kitchen, one hand the size of a small frying pan pressed over his rump, the other rummaging around for a snack in the pantry. He was becoming rather indifferent to the whole _'Gasp! Harry's a Wizard and He's Got Freaky Friends!'_ bit. As long as he didn't end up with another pig tail, he wasn't interested.

After the initial protestations, the new guests found themselves seated in the Dursley's living room, all staring at each other heatedly, with the exception of Dumbledore (who was perusing one of Petunia's tabloids).

"Well, boy, when are you leaving?" Vernon asked rudely.

"Mum, where's the mustard?" Dudley interrupted.

"I fancy I resembled Prince William in my younger days. Minerva would swear up and down I looked more like Prince Charles, but Minerva has absolutely no sense for these sorts of things. What do you think, Harry?"

"Err…Prince William, sir," Harry answered with a creeping smile, then he addressed his uncle with, "As soon as possible, Uncle Vernon."

"And that…whatever that _thing_ is…it better not mess the carpets!" Petunia threatened, still casting her beady eyes over Dobby. The house elf, who was quite used to death glares, merely returned her look with equal displeasure.

"He's not a _thing_. He's a Dobby. I mean, his name is Dobby. He's a house elf," Harry explained, hoping he would be able to diffuse any nasty rows before they started.

"Dobby is going to sleep for the night, sirs. If you be needing Dobby, just call." Without another word, Dobby popped out of sight. Harry found himself wishing he could do the same. Who knew how long he'd have to endure death glares from the Dursleys – most likely until they decided to go to bed. The thought brought up an interesting question.

"Professor Dumbledore, do you have to sleep?"

The older wizard glanced over the top of his spectacles at Harry.

"Yes, Harry, I do tire in this form. Not as quickly as I used to, but a drawback of being channeled through a wand is that I feel a bit depleted after Severus casts powerful spells. Unfortunately, he's been doing so rather frequently. If I'm not mistaken, it feels like ward magic. I suppose we shall find out soon enough."

"We're going to find Snape?"

"_Professor_ Snape…well, actually I don't suppose he's a professor anymore."

"So I suppose Draco is still with Snape, huh?" Dumbledore shot him a reproving look for the lack of a respectful title over his ghostly glasses, but eventually he nodded in a pondering sort of way.

"Yes, I should think so. The bond Severus completed with him was unexpected. I imagine it will keep them close from now on."

The jealousy that had reared its head when he'd seen Ginny with Dean came back with a vengeance. Before he even realized he'd spoken, Harry blurted out, "What bond? Even if Snape isn't a traitor, Draco _is_! He has the mark, I'm _sure _of it! He shouldn't be allowed anywhere near Snape!" Harry all but clamped a hand over his own mouth in surprise. He could feel his cheeks go red, and he wished again he could disappear as Dobby had done earlier. When he finally gathered enough courage to look at Dumbledore, it was to see a face filled with curious amusement.

"I feel certain that Draco will see the error of his ways," Dumbledore answered mildly. Harry huffed, shaking his head, cheeks still heated.

"Just because he didn't kill you doesn't mean he wouldn't like to. He was probably just too cowardly." Harry had meant that as an insult, but Dumbledore merely chuckled.

"How glad I am, then, that Draco lacks your courage! While Severus's behavior is excusable, had Draco been the one to kill me, it would not be the same. It would prove that he was truly a servant of Voldemort. That is why the world can't be made up entirely of Gryffindors, my boy. If everyone had the courage to do everything they believed in, to possess enough bravery to die for what they thought was right, without ever questioning or doubting their actions, I doubt there would be many humans left. You must know that had I so wished, I could have disarmed Draco effortlessly. Have you forgotten that I am quite proficient at wandless magic? In the tower, I was testing him. Thankfully, he passed."

Harry was sullen. In his opinion, Draco was still a swarmy twit.

The Dursleys, who had been very quiet during this exchange, could no longer contain themselves.

"What about the has-no-name fellow? What in the bloody _hell _is going on?" Vernon stood, his huge bulk dwarfing his rail-thin wife. Dudley ambled into the living room, a massive sandwich in his hands. He sat on the stairs, overlooking the meeting with the sort of air one has while watching a boring television show.

"Well, Mr. Dursley, Voldemort, the dark wizard responsible for the death of Harry's parents and godfather, has regained his full power. Harry, with the help of a group of wizards known as the Order of the Pheonix, is destined to defeat him. Severus Snape is an Order member, but is mistakenly thought to be a traitor at the moment. Draco Malfoy is the son of a very wealthy and influential wizard (currently in prison) who may or may not be working for Voldemort. It remains to be seen if he will join our side."

Looking as though the wind had been taken out of his sails, Vernon sank back down onto the couch. He took Petunia's hand.

"If you are endangering my family by being here, I'll throw you out this instant!" He glared challengingly at Dumbledore, as if sizing him up.

Harry was ready to draw his wand, excited about the prospect of hexing his relatives, when Dumbledore said something quite unexpected.

"Your love of your family is quite admirable, Mr. Dursley, but I beg you to remember that Harry, too, is a member of your family. Do you not care about his welfare?"

Harry waited for the obvious answer that would come from Vernon, but instead he heard only a weary sigh. Several long seconds passed before Vernon replied in a grudging tone.

"You may stay as long as it is absolutely necessary, but then I want you **gone**."

Flabbergasted, Harry looked searchingly into his uncle's eyes. Vernon held his stare, a bit challengingly perhaps, but there was an underlying resignation – an acceptance, if one were willing to make the stretch.

"I assume these unexplainable accidents that have been occurring more and more frequently are to be blamed on this Voldy-shorts fellow. I don't know why on earth they think _you_ can defeat him, but if you're going to give it a shot, might as well finish him off. Take care of this, boy, so we can go back to pretending you and your kind don't exist."

It was strange, but Vernon's words inspired a warm feeling in Harry's chest. It sounded like Vernon was telling him, in his own way, that he trusted him to get rid of Voldemort.

Petunia smoothed the throw on the couch unnecessarily, a tight expression on her face.

"I certainly was never friendly with my sister, but I didn't ever truly wish…I _never_ wanted her to die like she did. I thought that I would be glad to be proved right – being a witch had cost her everything – but it was a hollow victory. My parents didn't live long enough to know of how she died, but if they had, they would have wanted whoever was responsible to be brought to justice. _I_ want whoever's responsible to be brought to justice. Nothing good came out of Lily's death. I don't claim to understand your world or your people, but if you truly do this, I feel confident telling you that your mother would have been very…very proud of you."

Petunia didn't look at him, but Harry felt as though she'd stared right through him. His chest was tight, and he knew he couldn't take much more without loosing the animosity he felt towards his relatives – a dislike he had carried for years. Dumbledore wordlessly moved to his side, placing a comfortingly heavy hand on his shoulder. Harry felt as though walls he had built around his heart to protect him from his relatives were crumbling, as effortlessly as sand being blown away by the wind.

"You're wrong about one thing, Petunia. Lily's death was not in vain. The love she showed for Harry by giving her life for his is a deep, powerful kind of magic – the oldest magic we have. Harry is able to access magic that other wizards can't. Some might say it's genetics, but I think it's because of what his mother did for him. She cast ancient magic on Harry that became a part of him as he grew and learned. Her love is the reason he has the potential to tap into such great powers. I am almost sure that this theory is correct. Harry will defeat Voldemort because of love – the universal magic, and the one thing Voldemort will never understand or expect. Your ability to perform old magic, Harry, will frighten him to the core. Shaking your enemy's confidence is half the battle, after all."

They sat in silence until Dumbledore stood and yawned hugely.

"I do believe it is time for us to all get some rest. Harry, we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. As I can rest anywhere, I think I shall do so in here. This armchair is quite comfortable – much better than, say, a turban."

Harry smiled, but the bewildered Dursleys missed the reference to Professor Quirrell. They made their way to their bedrooms, followed by Dudley, with Harry bringing up the rear. In the hallway, Petunia stopped to get a blanket and an extra pillow from the hall closet. She handed it to Harry wordlessly, then followed Vernon into their bedroom. It seemed that Dumbledore's presence, oddly enough, had brought some kind of unspoken truce to the household. This suspicion became fact when, after the generous gift of the warm blanket and soft pillow, Dudley ripped his sandwich in half and thrust it into Harry's free hand.

"If you're going to fight some evil wizard, you should beef up a bit. You're pitiful. I bet you can't even punch properly. I suppose I could give you a few tips in the morning." Dudley went off down the hall, stuffing his face all the way. Harry stood at the top of the stairs for a long moment, mustard from the sandwich dribbling over his fingers, a small smile on his face that he couldn't repress.

Once in the guest room bed, Harry tossed and turned, unable to get to sleep. Eventually, his eyes slid closed, but when he opened them again, he was no longer looking at the ceiling of the spare bedroom.

He was looking into the dark eyes of one Severus Snape.

It was obvious the taller wizard was extremely angry, and frustrated as well. Harry somehow knew they were in the middle of an Occlumency lesson, or rather, at the end of one that had gone very badly.

"_I've told you time and time again, Potter! This requires practice on your part outside of class! You're the most infuriating…the most irritating…"_ Snape was now bearing down over him, most likely seconds away from pulling out his wand and hexing Harry permanently. Instead, Harry found himself being kissed.

It was not like the kisses he'd shared with Ginny. It was harsher, needier, more desperate and violent. He stumbled backwards at the force of it, but Snape's arms wrapped around him and pulled him back, half lifting him up so that their groins were pressed together, their chests flush, and their faces at the perfect height for kissing passionately.

Harry's traitorous mouth filled with a moan, and that seemed to break the spell. The hand holding up his rear vanished and he stumbled on the retreating hem of Snape's robe. Sprawled on the ground, he could only look up at Snape in confusion as the older wizard's face was, for once, completely open to him. His eyes were burning, not with hatred, but with desire. The thin line between animosity and lust had been crossed, and Snape's true feelings toward him were exposed. Snape's hand reached out, as if wanting to pull him off the floor and back into his arms, but viciously he withdrew, clenching his fist so hard that his knuckles turned pearly white. He turned his back on him purposefully, then took several steps away. Harry watched the scene unfold with wide green eyes, confused and aroused at the same time, a million questions on his tongue and an ache in his trousers.

"_I…"_ was all he managed to say before Snape turned back, striding across the room quickly, wand drawn, his eyes hardened to a task that he obviously felt must be done, no matter how unpleasant. The _Obliviate _spell echoed strangely, and Harry shot up in bed, his breathing wild and his head aching.

"_Fuck!"_ he whispered harshly, clutching his hair in denial. He didn't need to ask if it had been a real memory or a dream.

He _knew_…and he understood.

Not willing to face Dumbledore, Harry laid back down again. His mind was racing, but he kept coming back to the same two thoughts.

His first thought was that Draco had better keep his bloody hands to himself. His second thought was that Severus Snape had a _lot_ of explaining to do.

**A/N: **Response for this has been amazing! I love that we all seem to be on the same thought waves. Someone pointed out that Remus never said 'yes' to Tonks, but rather "We'll talk about this later." As in, "I'm still in love with Sirius and I don't want to be outed, you hoe." Anyway, about this chapter. It took awhile coming, but I've been busy lately. I was going to write more on it, but this just seemed like a good place to end it. Part of the reason for the delay was that I was writing out an outline for the next few chapters. I liked the idea of Severus kissing Harry and the obliviating him. Of course, Harry isn't too fond of the situation. Severus is going to get an _earful_, that's for sure.

**Another Note** – I originally posted a version of this chapter that hadn't been edited and was missing quite a few chunks of important plot development. If you read this chapter and Petunia didn't have any lines, you read the wrong version. Sorry!

**MarsisBrightTonight**: Excellent eye for details! I'll have to go reread that. That will help a TON with this fic!

**Laureselde**: You're funny.


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